The whiteout made finding landmarks completely impossible, so every so often she tried to remember to pull out her GPS and check her coordinates. She swore softly to herself when she realized she’d been gradually drifting and realigned herself to correct it. She still had the wherewithal to set a warning alarm to let her know if she started heading in the wrong direction again and managed to do so despite her fumbling fingers and the pronounced shaking of her hands.
But despite it all, she knew her faculties were starting to fade, and her brain was becoming as sluggish as her movement.
Then the worst happened.
The ground disappeared from underneath her and she was tumbled headlong into the snow.
Her high-pitched shriek split the air and sent birds flapping into the sky in fright.
A pain as hot as fire shot up her leg, doused at the same time by the bitter cold which enveloped her in its icy fingers.
Shyla groaned and tried to push up, but her arms shook pathetically before giving way and landing her face first in the blanket of white once again.
She tugged at her ankle which was clearly caught in something, a rabbit hole, or even just a depression which was covered by the snow.
“Argh!” She growled in frustration as she struggled to get herself free.
She was too young, at twenty-eight, to die in a blizzard on the side of a mountain. Her father, a famous mountaineer, would be overcome with shame that she’d succumbed to such a rookie mistake. And overcome with grief that she’d followed her mother.
Sweat popped out on her forehead, despite the cold and she yanked her foot beyond what was comfortable, and her screech left her body on a thin, high pitched wail of pain which sounded more animal-like than human.
Just when she thought she was going to pass out from the excruciating agony and exertion, there was a loud snap, and something gave. For one half delirious moment she thought it was a bone before common sense trickled in - far too slowly - and told her it was wood. Possibly a tree root.
“Nggh!” She twisted and screwed her eyes shut against the pain but finally managed to get her foot free.
Dragging herself forward, her relief was short lived as she tried to blink away the black dots that swam before her eyes.
She knew exactly what was happening and fought against it. She rolled herself onto her back in one last desperate attempt to stay conscious against the searing pain, but the corners of her vision dimmed and started to tunnel.
Shyla let out a final frustrated scream which was dampened and gobbled up by the thick muffling blanket of snow before the darkness took her and she faded into unconsciousness.